Summer's End
by Toffeecrisp
Summary: A reimagining of P&P which opens in the Summer of 1939 with the storm clouds of war on the horizon. Full summary at the start of Chapter 1. This story is now available as a Kindle E-book by Tish Elham on Amazon in a slightly edited version with the addition of a new chapter. The first three chapters are available here as a preview.
1. Chapter 1

_**England in the long hot summer of 1939...A country house party gathers. Rich, privileged young people idle their time away without a care in the world, much to the disgust of one of their neighbours. Unlike the London socialites at Netherfield Park, Elizabeth Bennet is all too conscious of what is happening in the world beyond Meryton and has little time for people with such frivolous lives and certainly not for one rather haughty young man in particular.**_ _ **Fitzwilliam Darcy doesn't appear to be enjoying his stay in Meryton and he soon provokes Elizabeth's annoyance with his dismissive attitude towards her concerns.**_

 _ **However, the storm clouds of war are gathering over Europe and as the summer ends, the lives of Elizabeth and Darcy will change forever. The summer of 1940 will bring the war very close to home and, pitched into a nation's desperate battle for survival, Elizabeth and Darcy will come to look at their lives and each other very differently.**_

 **Chapter One**

 ** _Summer 1939_**

Was it the dismissive tone of his voice, the disdainful tilt of his chin as he spoke or the words themselves which offended Elizabeth Bennet most? As she gazed upon the profile of the dark-haired, handsome man, spied from her vantage point, partially hidden in the folds of one of the faded-with-age velvet curtains hanging forlornly at the windows of the Meryton Town Hall, she realised with a start of surprise, that the absurdity of his declaration amused her slightly more than it offended. It was, after all, absurd to imagine that a man accustomed to the finest things in life, moving in high society, wealthy beyond most people's dreams and, no doubt, frequently seen gracing the dance floor of the _Café de Paris,_ would find anything to enjoy in a provincial country dance. His pronouncement that he didn't consider her attractive enough to be his dance partner, though undeniably hurtful, only served to relieve her of any concern about his opinion. He could think whatever he liked of them all; it would never matter to her.

When the party from Netherfield Park had entered the hall earlier that evening, the gentle hum of conversation had momentarily hushed in universal astonishment. There had been little expectation that the group of London socialites, so recently arrived in the neighbourhood, would venture beyond the confines of the Netherfield estate and certainly not to attend something as mundane as the Meryton dance.

Netherfield Park had been let to a young man by the name of Charles Bingley several weeks ago and since that time there had been much rumour in Meryton of the large number of guests staying there, of all night parties, deliveries of the finest food and champagne directly from _Fortnum & Masons_ in London and all other manner of frivolity. Little had actually been seen of the occupants apart from the occasional brief glimpse of Mr Bingley racing through Meryton in his red Lagonda. Even such a brief sighting as this had fuelled much gossip in the town, the chief of which had been relayed to the Bennets by their aunt, Mrs Phillps, and by Elizabeth's younger sisters, Kitty and Lydia, who found an excuse almost every day to venture into town. From the little that was known, and the much imagined and invented, it was generally reported that Charles Bingley was very rich and very handsome.

When the doors of the Town Hall opened that evening to admit a party of five people, strangers to all present, every eye in the room was instantly turned upon them. Three men and two women, all fashionably and expensively dressed and looking exceedingly like fish out of water in such an unfamiliar environment, glided into the hall and, with little attempt to hide their curiosity, turned their heads from side to side to survey their surroundings. From the wide-eyed expression of alarm on the faces of the two women, the raised eyebrows and the whispered asides, it was obvious to Elizabeth that the Meryton dance did not meet with their approval.

Turning her attention to the men, Elizabeth at once recognised, from the general description which had been circulated, that the youngest man who was fair-haired, in his early twenties and, unlike the women, smiling broadly to all in general, must be Charles Bingley. Slightly to his left and reaching for the arm of one of the ladies was an older man. From the way in which the lady shrugged him off without any attempt at politeness, Elizabeth assumed he could only be her husband. Bringing up the rear of the party was a tall dark-haired young man. It was no credit to anyone's intelligence to recognise that this man was easily the most handsome in the room and he soon drew the attention of every woman.

The three piece band on the stage at the far end of the hall started up with a ponderous rendition of _In Apple Blossom Time_ and for a moment it seemed as if the assembled youth and, in some cases, not so youthful residents of Meryton would be too overawed by their visitors to risk making an exhibition of themselves in such company. However, a few stalwarts of the dance floor, either too young or too old to care about appearances, began, after a slight hesitation, to shuffle around the floor in time to the rhythm of the music and the conversation in the room began again, fuelled by one obvious topic.

It hadn't taken more than half an hour's observation for Elizabeth to form an opinion of what she had seen and turning to her friend, Charlotte Lucas, she declared: 'It looks as though our visitors aren't enjoying themselves very much, apart from Mr Bingley.' She smiled at the thought that he, at least, appeared well-mannered enough to engage in conversation with others in the room and was bold enough to have asked a few of the ladies to dance including her older sister, Jane.

'He seems a very nice young man,' Charlotte agreed.

'It's a pity the same can't be said of the other man. Just look at his face.'

Charlotte turned to look at the tall, dark-haired man who was standing alone at one side of the dance floor. He had been walking around for some time and seemed disinterested in the proceedings. In fact, it was more than that; he looked angry.

'He thinks this is beneath him,' Elizabeth surmised. 'I don't suppose we're smart enough for him in Meryton.'

'You can't really blame him for that,' Charlotte replied more reasonably than Elizabeth thought necessary. 'Apparently, from what I overheard, he's very rich and owns a large estate in Derbyshire.'

'Then I wish he'd gone there and taken his friends with him,' Elizabeth countered with spirit. 'We don't need people like him idling their time away because they've nothing better to do and looking down on the rest of us into the bargain.'

Charlotte smiled at her friend. She was used to the forthright manner in which Elizabeth expressed her opinions on a range of subjects and often found herself silently agreeing. Elizabeth was younger than her by six years but, having grown up as near neighbours and spent many hours in each other's company, they had discovered at a young age that they were liked-minded if not necessarily alike in temperament. Charlotte was generally considered to be plain and, at twenty-seven, though not beyond hope of meeting 'Mr Right' one day, realized that she was running out of options. Many of her peers had married at an early age leaving her in the unenviable position of seeming a confirmed spinster. Elizabeth, however, valued her friendship. Charlotte was sensible and wise and, although naturally more reserved, not without a sense of humour. Furthermore, she possessed a keen eye and observance of all that passed within Meryton society and was an invaluable ally to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth, although not considered equal in looks to her elder sister, even by her own mother, was nevertheless an attractive young woman who possessed a keen sense of humour and a quick wit countered with a great deal of good sense which she assumed she must have inherited from her father. She found amusement in many of the little absurdities met with on a daily basis but had a good appreciation of the important things in life. Her family and her neighbours possessed habits and foibles which amused her no end but, for all their peculiar ways, they were the people amongst whom she had grown up these past twenty years and she had the humility and good grace never to ridicule them or consider herself somehow superior.

That Elizabeth should have expressed her annoyance at the attitude of these visitors to Meryton was no surprise to Charlotte but gazing across the room and catching sight of Jane, who had just accepted another invitation to dance with Mr Bingley, she couldn't help asking with a hint of amusement: 'Do you think Jane would rather they had gone to Derbyshire?'

Elizabeth followed the direction of her friend's eyes and saw at once that Jane, a famed local beauty and considered a catch for some lucky young man one day, appeared to be enjoying the attention of Mr Bingley very much. He was talking to her as they danced, his expression animated, and Elizabeth, knowing her sister so well, had no doubt that she liked him very much.

'Well, Jane is the most patient and forgiving person you are ever likely to meet,' she conceded to Charlotte, 'and, in all fairness, I have to agree that Mr Bingley is making an effort but as for the others…'

She turned to look at the two young women who were now seated at a table near the dance floor but seemed intent on talking to no one but each other and surreptitiously laughing behind their hands at all they saw. The older man Elizabeth had supposed to be the husband of one of them, had drifted away and was propping up the bar at the rear of the hall where a whisky or three seemed to have made the occasion more bearable for him. Looking around the room to locate the third man and seeing him standing opposite near a window, she was startled and discomfited to catch his eye. For a few uncomfortable seconds they gazed at each other, both unwilling to break the spell and look away first. For Elizabeth it became almost a matter of pride not to be intimidated and she held steady until, to her irritation, he raised his eyebrows in a gesture of apparent astonishment that she should be staring at him and then turned abruptly on his heel and walked away.

'Did you see that, Charlotte?' Elizabeth cried. 'He thought I was being impudent.'

'Really?' The corners of Charlotte's mouth were twitching in amusement and she added, 'Well, I certainly think he noticed you.'

'Good,' Elizabeth declared with feeling. 'He might be happy to waste his time, standing about disapproving of everything but at least he won't need to waste any time wondering what I think of him.'

Charlotte allowed the subject to drop but she couldn't help thinking that if Elizabeth's opinion of their new neighbours was correct, there was little likelihood of the tall, handsome man ever giving her a second thought.

ooOoo

The young woman opposite was staring at him. Quite unintentionally he had caught her eye and she seemed determined to hold his gaze. It was an awkward moment but, to his surprise, Darcy found himself staring back, captivated by the expression of her dark eyes as they fixed upon him. There was a challenge in that look, the reason for which he couldn't comprehend and being unfamiliar with his surroundings and unsure how to respond, he decided to retreat.

Darcy turned and walked away, wishing once again that Charles hadn't persisted with this spur of the moment notion of attending a country dance. He had declared to everyone at afternoon tea that it would be a "charming" idea to attend and, despite the initial reluctance of his two sisters, he had eventually persuaded them and his elder sister's husband to accompany him. Their motives for attending, Darcy suspected, were less innocent than Charles's view that a small country dance would make a refreshing change after the excesses of the social scene in London. After all, he had cajoled them, the whole reason for taking a summer let in the country had been to enjoy a slower pace of life.

Charles's sisters, Caroline and Louisa, although often publicly declaring they felt nowhere more at home than in London, had nevertheless seemed keen enough to join him at Netherfield Park and, consequently, to live at his expense. Being well acquainted with their brother's generous nature, particularly since he had inherited the bulk of their father's fortune, they had little difficulty in persuading him that life in the country needn't be overly rustic and certainly nor devoid of a few luxuries and Charles had been as happy as ever to oblige. Now, however, looking at the expressions on the faces of his friend's sisters, Darcy was sure that they were enjoying the dance for all the wrong reasons.

After his hasty decision this afternoon, Darcy had tried to persuade Charles not to go ahead with his plan.

'You don't know anyone here, Charles. I'm not sure that attending the dance is the best way of introducing yourself and, in any case, I don't think it will be quite as you expect.'

Charles had looked astonished. 'What better way is there to introduce myself to the locals?'

Darcy, accustomed to Charles's rapid but not always fully considered decision making process, managed to maintain his patience. 'There you have it in a nutshell, Charles. Referring to the Meryton residents as "the locals," already makes it sound as if you think they inhabit another planet. Don't you think it might be just a little awkward for all concerned?'

Charles smiled. 'Awkward for you, don't you mean, Darcy. You don't enjoy dances at the best of times.'

Darcy sighed. 'Whether I like dancing or not has nothing to do with it. This is the first time you or any of us will have ventured into the town since we came here and the dance will be nothing like either you or your sisters have experienced before. It might just seem a little patronising.'

Charles had laughed aloud. 'That makes you sound a terrible snob, Darcy.'

Darcy shook his head. 'I'm not a snob, Charles. You should know that. What I'm trying to say is that you mentioned only yesterday the possibility of settling here permanently and first impressions are important.'

Charles had clapped Darcy reassuringly on the shoulder and he had heard the sincerity in his voice as he replied: 'I'll be on my best behaviour. I promise, Darcy.'

Darcy said no more on the subject. Charles had clearly made up his mind and Darcy was, after all, a guest in his home. He knew that Charles was unlikely to ever offend anyone; it was one of the reasons he enjoyed his company so much. They had been friends for a couple of years, having met through their shared interest in flying and Darcy admired the young man's character, his easy-going, good-natured approach to life and his ability to charm and put others at ease in his company. They were very different personalities and at first glance many would have been surprised that they should have struck up such a firm friendship. However, Charles valued Darcy's good sense and advice, particularly now that he had come into his inheritance and was making important decisions about his future. Darcy had experience of taking the reins of a large estate at a relatively young age and understood all the responsibilities that it entailed and he was not afraid to offer his advice. He knew that Charles often valued it above his own sisters although today, for once, he had seemed adamant that he wanted to attend the dance in Meryton.

It was not really Charles's behaviour that concerned Darcy. If he was honest, it was Caroline, Louisa and even Louisa's husband, Frederick, which concerned him more. The Bingley sisters were accustomed to moving in fashionable circles. They were expensively educated, had attended finishing school and, as was strictly the custom, had been debutantes and done _The Season_ with great success. They both possessed the ability to be entertaining and engaging company when they chose and amongst their friends and acquaintances in London they were highly regarded and never short of invitations to parties, dinners and country weekends. Consequently, they had learned to think very well of themselves. If Darcy was honest, it was the public reaction of Louisa and Caroline to the limited delights of a country dance which had concerned him most when Charles had proposed the excursion.

No sooner had the party entered the Town Hall this evening than Darcy's fears had been confirmed. He saw exactly what he had expected; a dingy room, a mediocre band trotting out a standard set of uninspiring hits from yesteryear and a half-filled hall of distinctly unfashionable local residents who were regarding the Netherfield party with undisguised curiosity. Darcy was embarrassed by the attention and, seeking to hide his awkwardness, he had walked slowly around the room trying to keep out of the limelight as much as possible. Charles, by contrast and to his great credit, seemed to pay little heed to his surroundings. He was his usual charming self and had soon struck up conversation with several of the older residents in the room and before long had been introduced to one or two young women and had taken to the dance floor with a particularly striking partner.

Darcy had lost track of time, listening to the interminable, ponderous beat of the drummer marking time for a waltz, a foxtrot, a quickstep and then, inevitably, another waltz whilst the dancers shuffled around and then politely clapped at the end of each tune. It was only when the lights came up and the band beat a retreat whilst supper was served from long trestle tables at the rear of the hall, that Darcy had caught up with Charles again.

'Well, what do you think, Darcy? Isn't it just as charming as I said it would be?'

Darcy could tell that his friend was in high spirits. 'If you say so, Charles.'

'Cheer up, Darcy; I swear I've never met prettier girls or nicer people. It's just a shame that it all ends so early.'

Darcy gave a weak smile and Bingley frowned. 'Come on, Darcy, why don't you take a turn around the floor? You've only danced with Caroline and Louisa since you got here and there are lots of girls sitting around who'd love to be asked.'

Darcy felt awkward again. He could tell that Charles was in a particularly happy mood and keen for everyone else to feel likewise but he would never be able to match his friend's enthusiasm. Feeling mildly irritated, he sought to deflect him before he became too insistent about the dancing.

'I can't see what you're getting so excited about. It's a rather dull dance, with a mediocre band and, let's be honest, uninspiring company.'

Charles stared at him in genuine surprise. 'I have to disagree with you, old man. Jane Bennet is the most delightful girl I've met in a very long time.'

Darcy gazed across the hall and seeing the undisputed loveliness of the eldest Bennet sister had to give ground.

'Very well, I concede that Miss Bennet is easily the most attractive girl in the room but _you_ are dancing with her.'

Charles cast around him and then lowered his voice a little. 'Look there's one of her sisters standing over there. She's very pretty. Why don't you ask her to dance?'

Darcy followed the direction of his friend's gaze and seeing a dark-haired young woman standing nearby, almost cloaked in the folds of one of the ancient velvet curtains at the window, recognised, with a start of unwelcome surprise, the young woman who had been staring at him across the dance floor a little while ago. The memory of the uncompromising look she had thrown him and the unsettling feelings it had engendered was enough to dissuade him from even considering an invitation let alone approaching her.

He frowned. 'I think, in the circumstances, it would take a lot more to tempt me, Charles. I don't know why you think I would want to dance with her.'

Charles shook his head in genuine disbelief. 'Very well, Darcy, have it your own way but I think you're missing out. I certainly wouldn't be so fastidious.'

Charles drifted away and was soon to be seen dancing yet again with the striking woman whom Darcy now knew to be Jane Bennet. He was not surprised by his friend's praise of her as she was, without doubt, very beautiful, possessed a sweet smile and seemed to be a very good-humoured girl, if her occasional laughter at Charles's remarks, coupled with the serene expression on her face as they glided around the floor, were anything by which to judge.

Darcy was not surprised that Charles should express his appreciation of a new acquaintance so soon after they had met. Charles Bingley and procrastination were not close friends; whatever he did was done with speed, whether it was choosing his clothes in the morning, buying a car, settling on a house to rent or falling in love. It was not the first time he had been captivated by a young woman he had only just met and, if events ran true to form, it would be all over within a week.

Darcy turned away from the dance floor and as he did so he caught sight of the clock on the wall. It was half past ten and with luck the dance would conclude in an hour so, they would all stand to sing _God save the King_ and then return to Netherfield, bringing the whole evening, most thankfully, to an end.

ooOoo

'What did you think of Mr Bingley?'

Jane's question to Elizabeth was casual in tone and not heard by the other occupants of the car. They were sitting in the back of Mr Bennet's Austin as their father drove them home from the dance. Lydia, being only sixteen, loud, excitable and naturally high-spirited, had decided to sit in the front seat alongside her father and, no doubt much to his dismay, was recounting every detail of the dance to him. Kitty, although sitting in the back with Elizabeth and Jane, was hanging over the front seats, throwing in a word or explanation whenever Lydia would allow her to get a word in edgeways. At seventeen and a half, Kitty was often peeved at the way her overbearing younger sister managed to grab attention. Both were talking loudly about the evening's events although they could not have relayed the details to anyone less interested in hearing them. Mr Bennet kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead and closed his ears as best he could. At least once he had returned home and put the car away in the garage he could escape to his study to drink his cocoa in peace, safe in the knowledge that he was unlikely to be disturbed by anyone for the rest of the evening.

Had Elizabeth not seen with her own eyes the obvious admiration of Mr Bingley for her elder sister, she might have been deceived into believing that Jane's question regarding Mr Bingley was entirely innocent and that she had no more than a passing interest in Elizabeth's opinion.

'Perhaps it would be more appropriate to ask what you think of him, Jane, because from what I saw, it was obvious that he liked you.'

Jane shrugged. 'He's a very charming young man but I daresay he was no more pleasant to me than anyone else.'

Elizabeth laughed. 'He's a charming man indeed and one who knows a pretty girl when he sees her.'

'It's a pity, however, that his friend was so rude,' Jane responded.

Elizabeth shook her head. 'Don't worry on my account, Jane. I'm really not bothered about the opinion of a man like that and, if we're on the subject of people being sneering about others, I couldn't care less what Mr Bingley's sisters think of us either. Honestly, at a time like this, there's so much more to worry about than the social life of Meryton or anywhere else.'

The silence from Jane which followed this remark alerted Elizabeth to the fact that she had said something unfortunate. She was well aware that Jane, although intelligent, sensible and conscious of the growing tension in the country with the difficult situation unfolding week by week in Europe, was nevertheless, not one to dwell on such unhappy and worrying news or feel inclined to discuss it at length. Elizabeth, by contrast, took a keen interest in developments, read the newspapers, listened to the wireless, watched the newsreels at the pictures and discussed the escalating situation with her father who was glad of some intelligent conversation and valued his daughter's opinion.

Elizabeth lowered her voice. 'Did I say something wrong?'

'No,' Jane said in a hesitant undertone. 'I understand why you might think that about Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst but when Mr Bingley introduced me to them I found them quite pleasant.'

Elizabeth let this pass. It didn't surprise her that her modest and kind-hearted sister would be generous enough to overlook the obvious disdain both the ladies had displayed on their arrival at the dance and at various other points during the evening.

'I'm glad to hear it,' Elizabeth said without conviction.

'Well, perhaps you'll have a chance to find out for yourself,' Jane replied with what sounded like a forced note of light-heartedness.

Elizabeth turned her head to look at her sister, suddenly suspicious. 'What do you mean?'

Even in the darkness, unable to see more than the outline of Jane's face, Elizabeth could sense that her sister was nervous.

'I hope you don't mind, Elizabeth, but they kindly invited both us for tea at Netherfield Park on Monday afternoon and I accepted.'

Elizabeth, despite her love for her sister, couldn't help but sigh in exasperation. It was a stretch of the imagination to think of Mr Bingley's sisters kindly doing anything for anyone and having sensed for most of the evening that they were all being subjected to their private ridicule, Elizabeth was both highly surprised and rather suspicious of their motives. After the events of this evening, an invitation to Netherfield Park and closer association with people for whom she felt so little respect was the very last thing she wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Mrs Bennet was beyond excitement.

'Goodness me, Jane, how wonderful! An invitation to Netherfield Park. You must have made quite an impression on Mr Bingley but that's really no surprise to me. A mother knows these things.'

Mrs Bennet was sitting with her daughters in what had once been known at Longbourn as the lounge. She had, however, taken it upon herself a few years ago to rename it the Morning Room, believing it to convey a better impression of the scale and proportions of their home. Jane listened in embarrassment to her mother's outpouring of enthusiasm about the invitation for a minute or two before seeking to calm her expectations of the occasion. She had no doubt that in Mrs Bennet's fevered imaginations, afternoon tea would rapidly lead to a proposal of marriage before the last cucumber sandwich had been consumed.

'It was Caroline Bingley who invited us, Mother. I have no reason to believe that her brother or either of the other gentlemen will be there.'

'I don't see why she only invited you and Lizzy,' Lydia piped up from the sofa where she had been reclining for half the morning, having declared with a few loud yawns that she was far too tired to move until lunchtime after such a late evening at the dance. 'Kitty and I were there too and I spoke to Mr Bingley, as well. I told him that we'd seen him driving around the town and how lovely his Lagonda looked and I asked him how fast it goes. He seemed really pleased and told me it can do a hundred miles an hour.'

'You also asked him if you could go for a ride in it, didn't you?' Kitty added. 'He didn't seem quite so pleased with that idea, did he?'

The look on her face suggested that she had enjoyed the slightly uncomfortable moment which had accompanied this bold request before Mr Bingley had smiled hesitantly, said something vague about being rather busy and swiftly moved off in the opposite direction.

'I'm sure he didn't mind,' Lydia retorted, adding as an afterthought, 'and I bet I do get a ride in it long before you do, Kitty.'

The tone of Lydia's voice suggested she was about to embark on another tiresome game of one-upmanship with her sister and Elizabeth, weary of having witnessed countless other occasions, interrupted the argument.

'Believe me, Lydia, I've no particular desire to go. I don't think you'll be missing out on very much.'

'Well, I'm not surprised you aren't keen,' Mrs Bennet cried. 'Who would want to meet someone as rude as that Mr Darcy chap again? Goodness, had I been there and heard him speak about you like that I would have given him a piece of my mind.'

Elizabeth was grateful for the fact that her mother, claiming to have one of her 'heads', had decided against attending the Meryton dance yesterday evening. As much as Mr Darcy's words had offended Elizabeth, she had no desire to see her mother causing a scene in a public place.

Mary looked up from her book and pushed her reading glasses to the end of her nose as she regarded her sisters from the other side of the room.

'How often that simple phrase is used without considering the long-term implications of venting one's feelings without pausing for thought. If more people took a care to consider their words, to reflect on their impact and to choose a course of discussion and conciliation, in point of fact, the type of action that the Meryton Peace League advocates, then it could lead to a complete change in political thinking.'

'That's all very well, Mary,' Mrs Bennet replied unable to hide her exasperation, 'but perhaps you should have a word with this Mr Darcy first because he started it.'

'It doesn't matter who starts something, Mother. A willingness to come together and forge a path for peace is the surest way to end conflict.'

A loud sigh was emitted by Lydia on the sofa. 'Oh, do shut up, Mary. You're always boring us with that Peace League rubbish.'

It was Mary's turn to look offended and for a moment she appeared to be on the verge of saying something hasty in reply to her youngest sister before, recalling her own words urging caution, she took a deep breath and curbing her instincts said calmly: 'I appreciate that my interests are not shared by everyone in this house but I believe that taking small steps is the way to achieve ultimate success and I was only wishing to encourage more peace and harmony at home'

'Well no one can argue with that sentiment, Mary,' Jane said with a smile, hoping that her sister would be placated. She was rewarded by a small smile in return before Mary turned her attention back to her book and her quest to find more philosophical nuggets of wisdom to impart to her family.

Jane gazed at Elizabeth who promptly rolled her eyes in response. They were all well aware of Mary's latest cause, one in a long list which had ranged from giving earnest consideration to converting to Catholicism with a view to becoming a nun when she was ten years old to threats at the age of seventeen that she might run away to join the International Brigade. The latter had brought a strong reprimand from Mr Bennet who, despite being certain that Mary had no real intention of going anywhere, was aghast at the idea of his third daughter embroiling herself in the politics of the Spanish Civil War.

Mary had always been a serious girl and, suffering from unfair comparisons with her sisters, had, from a young age, considered herself to be plain and sought to distinguish herself by some other means than her looks. She had applied herself at school but was not a gifted student and after arriving at the realisation that she was unlikely to forge a glittering academic career had suggested to her parents that she might learn typing and shorthand. However, she had reckoned without the steadfast opposition of her mother to her plans. Mrs Bennet considered any office job highly unsuitable for one of the Bennet girls and undoubtedly the first step on the road to ruin. Mary had been obliged to cast around for something else to do which was unlikely to offend or draw the censure of her parents and had recently settled upon the Meryton Peace League.

At first, Mr Bennet had been concerned that Mary was about to throw in her lot with yet another group of communists. However, having quickly established that the Meryton Peace League met once a week at St John's Church Hall, consisted of two elderly spinsters, a sixteen year old lad from Meryton Grammar school, a Methodist preacher and an earnest young librarian by the name of Cecil Williams, Mr Bennet was satisfied that it was as equally ineffectual as it was well-meaning. He had, therefore, allowed Mary to pursue her current interest, safe in the knowledge that the League was unlikely to cause a revolution any time soon.

'Well, I still think Miss Bingley should have invited the rest of us,' Lydia declared with a huff of indignation before flopping back on the sofa.

In contrast, Elizabeth silently wished that she hadn't invited any of them. If she could have escaped the visit she would have done so but she could tell that Jane was keen to forge a better acquaintance with the ladies of Netherfield and, despite her gentle protestations to the contrary, Elizabeth suspected that an attraction to Mr Bingley was the reason. Elizabeth supposed that she could have excused herself but realised that it might have seemed unduly rude and she had no desire to make Jane feel uncomfortable. It was not as if she had any good excuse to offer; the young ladies of Longbourn did not work.

Mr Bennet had retired several years ago after a successful career as a partner in a local firm of solicitors but, fifteen years earlier, had been fortunate enough to inherit the small estate of Longbourn from a distant relative together with an income which was sufficient to maintain his family in a comfortable, if not luxurious, fashion. To Mrs Bennet, however, this had represented a substantial elevation in status. She no longer considered herself the wife of a man in a respectable middle class profession but something more akin to landed gentry. Consequently, her views on the upbringing of her daughters had changed considerably.

With five daughters to feed, clothe, support and educate, and an income that was stretched, it was not possible for Mr Bennet to consider sending his daughters to university with all the costs that higher education would entail. The Bennet sisters had, therefore, received a fairly cursory education at a respectable but unambitious local girls school. Mrs Bennet was of the firm belief that since the apparent elevation of the family's status in Meryton, her daughters should not be seen as being in need of employment to support themselves. Consequently, they had copious time on their hands. Any mention of paid employment was met with a firm refusal from their mother who was adamant that her daughters would soon find themselves eligible young men to marry, rendering any ideas of employment irrelevant. Thankfully, however, she was not opposed to those who wished involving themselves in charitable good works. On the contrary, she considered it entirely fitting and for Elizabeth, in particular, it had proved an escape from the humdrum existence of a life that never really matched up to her mother's ambitions.

Elizabeth, along with Charlotte and Jane, had joined the Meryton Women's Institute but had found little to excite her in the regular round of jam making, flower arranging and lectures on home making, not to mention, organisation of the annual summer fete. However, eighteen months ago, quite unexpectedly, she had found a new direction and purpose.

Whilst visiting her aunt and uncle in London, Elizabeth had been taken by Mrs Gardiner, with whom she had always had a strong friendship, to a meeting of a charitable organisation of which her aunt was a member. The meeting had begun with a talk about the plight of Jewish refugees who were arriving in increasing numbers from Germany and the urgent need to assist them with resettlement in a foreign country. For Elizabeth it had been an eye-opening moment, especially when a newly arrived university professor from Frankfurt had given them a deeply personal account of his life in Germany and the circumstances which had driven him and his family to emigrate. Elizabeth's conscience had been awakened and she was moved and determined from that moment to become involved in whatever way she could to help.

The involvement of her aunt, a sensible and practical lady of sound judgment whose opinion Elizabeth knew to be valued by her parents, was one thing in the activity's favour but she had also found an ally in her father. Being a keen follower of current affairs, he had sadly recognised the dangerous road that they all faced and believed that it was only right and proper to assist those in need.

Elizabeth had asked what she could do to help and was rewarded with many ideas and suggestions. She had immersed herself in letter writing and petitioning prominent politicians and organisations in an attempt to raise awareness of the issues facing refugees as well as trying to find employment and accommodation for people arriving. She had taken to visiting her aunt and uncle in London as often as she could and they were always glad of her company, although the visits were not as frequent as she would have wished. Whilst staying there she helped her aunt with fundraising events, collections of donated clothing and unwanted possessions but also, increasingly, she was afforded opportunities to meet the refugees themselves. The more that she learned of what was happening in the wider world, the more she realised how isolated a life she had been living in Meryton. It was her home and had been her entire world for almost twenty-one years but she had begun to view everything through fresh eyes and had the eerie feeling that she was on the cusp of something that would change her life completely.

Looking back on the events of last night at the Meryton dance, Elizabeth wanted to laugh aloud at the absurdity of it all but mostly she wanted to laugh at herself for having allowed anything to bother her, however briefly. What did any of it really matter? What, especially, did the opinions of a few rich, vacuous socialites matter, people who were wasting their time, idling around in the countryside because they had nothing better to occupy them? She, at least, had something worthwhile to do.

Turning her head to gaze out of the Morning Room window into the garden, Elizabeth caught Jane's eye for a moment and recalled in that instant that it was Jane who valued the invitation to Netherfield Park and Jane who would value her company. Elizabeth's opinion of the occupants didn't matter. Jane was the kindest-hearted sister a girl could have and for her sake she forced herself to be fair to the situation; she had seen nothing for which she could actively criticise Mr Bingley apart from the company he kept. There was nothing for it, she realised. She would have to grit her teeth, be polite and accompany Jane to Netherfield Park. She owed her sister that, at least.

Behind Elizabeth and Jane, Mrs Bennet, still thrilled by Jane's news of the invitation, was recounting to Lydia and Kitty all manner of unsubstantiated gossip about the Netherfield party she had heard from her sister and her friend, Mrs Long, much of which concerned the estimated wealth of the tenant and his guests. Elizabeth could tell from the tiny frown and concerned expression on Jane's face that she found the conversation uncomfortable. Lowering her voice so that only Elizabeth could hear, Jane whispered: 'I wish Mother wouldn't make so much of everything. Anyone would think Mr Bingley was Price Charming at the Ball.'

Elizabeth could barely conceal a smile at this. 'But, Jane, surely you realise our mother has very high hopes of you being Cinderella.'

ooOoo

Darcy stood at the window of the drawing room and looked out across the drive and parkland of Netherfield or at least what could be seen of the green acres that surrounded the great house on such a dismal wet afternoon. It was July and the hot sunny weather of the morning had given way to dark, brooding clouds and it had grown increasingly humid since lunch. The weather had finally broken with the onset of heavy showers. One such downpour was in progress now accompanied by the occasional flash of jagged lightning and distant rolls of thunder.

Darcy was at something of a loose end. The weather had scuppered his plans of spending a few hours with Charles at the lake, having been laughingly challenged that morning at breakfast to an angling competition as his friend had bought a new rod and tackle and was keen to try it out. As much as rain was seldom an obstacle to a serious fisherman, it was a different prospect in a thunderstorm and Darcy knew it was unwise to go ahead with their plans. Charles, despite his great enthusiasm of the morning, now seemed unconcerned about the interruption to his activity and as Darcy gazed out into the teeming rain he could see the reason why.

Two women were emerging from a small, black saloon car which had just pulled up in front of the house and were huddled together under a solitary umbrella. As they ascended the steps to the front door he recognised them. The taller, fair-haired woman on the left was Jane Bennet, thereby explaining Charles's sudden contentment at the prospect of having to sit around indoors all afternoon. The other dark-haired woman, Darcy realised, could only be Jane Bennet's younger sister, the one who he now knew to be called Elizabeth.

Darcy had only learned of the Bennet sisters' invitation to afternoon tea at breakfast when the Netherfield party had all been assembled for the first time since the Meryton dance on Saturday. He had been absent on Sunday, rising and leaving early as he had arranged to meet with an old friend from university who was passing through London before heading to Southampton, bound for New York aboard the Queen Mary. It had been a considerable time since Darcy had seen his friend, Piers, and knowing that his diplomatic posting would keep him in the United States for some time, he had been keen to catch up. The lunch had turned into drinks and dinner before Darcy had taken his leave and driven back to Netherfield, returning late in the evening and long after the others had gone to bed.

The news that Caroline and Louisa appeared to have struck up an acquaintance with Jane Bennet had, quite frankly, astonished Darcy. From their reactions at the dance and their derisory comments afterwards, aimed at everything from the dress and manners of those attending to the inferior fruit punch offered as refreshment, he would have expected it to be their one and only foray into Meryton society.

'You seem surprised, Darcy,' Caroline said in teasing voice accompanied by a cat-like tilt of her head in his direction which he suspected she thought to be attractive.

'You weren't exactly complimentary about the dance, Caroline. I had no idea that you had made friends with Miss Bennet.'

She gave a light, tinkling laugh. 'Not exactly friends, Darcy, but she seems a sweet girl and I thought it might be amusing to find out some of the local gossip, especially if Charles does decide to settle here permanently.'

This sounded a more plausible reason for the invitation and more like the woman he knew.

'So you're cultivating a useful acquaintance,' he surmised. 'Well, useful to you at least.'

'You sound disapproving, Darcy. I daresay, Miss Bennet, won't mind the acquaintance one bit. It's not as if there are hordes of interesting new people around for her to meet. I should imagine it's dreadfully dull here.'

'Not everyone sees the world the way you do, Caroline.'

'More's the pity,' Caroline retorted. 'It won't do her any harm to see a little more of life and if I take her under my wing, I can certainly show her that.'

Darcy shook his head. 'Take care with your plans because this will still be her world when you've run back to London for the winter.'

The expression on Caroline's face told Darcy that his advice was unwelcome but he had known her for long enough to recognise the signs that she was bored and looking for some mischief.

'Don't forget you invited her sister too, well, one of them at least,' Louisa interrupted adding with a laugh, 'She has plenty to choose from.'

Caroline turned her attention from Darcy to her sister for a moment. 'I thought it might be an idea to ask the younger sister as well.' She frowned as if struggling to remember something. 'What's her name again, Louisa?'

'Elizabeth,' her sister supplied.

'Oh yes, Elizabeth,' Caroline repeated. 'Two heads are better than one and I didn't want to entirely overawe Jane Bennet by inviting her alone.'

'Well, at least Elizabeth seemed able to behave with some dignity on Saturday evening even if the other two sisters were somewhat wild,' Louisa replied. 'To be honest, I don't think they should be allowed out in public. I can't imagine what their mother is thinking. One of them even tried to cadge a lift from Charles, if you can believe it.'

At this remark Charles, who had been following the conversation in silence, spoke up. 'She's just young and a little high-spirited. There's no harm in the girl.'

'But nonetheless,' Caroline responded, 'it shows a complete lack of propriety. I understand from Dawkins that the family is considered to be genteel hereabouts. Although, apparently, their father was merely a solicitor before he inherited the estate. Well, I'll call it an estate but it sounds as if it's one of those ghastly villas with a larger than average garden.'

Louisa began to giggle at this and Caroline was tempted to repeat a few other pieces of gossip relating to Mrs Bennet's social pretensions that their housekeeper had told her this morning. However, the expression on her brother's face restrained her. He looked annoyed and she knew better than to antagonise him whilst a guest in his house.

As much as Darcy had not enjoyed listening to Caroline and Louisa's reasons for inviting the Bennet sisters to tea, he had no desire to say any more on the subject either. He knew the danger of paying Caroline too much attention even if it was only to admonish her. He was well aware of her interest in him but it was certainly not reciprocated. Caroline didn't lack admirers. She was striking in appearance, if not traditionally beautiful, and she had learned to make the most of her looks, assisted by a substantial wardrobe from the best couturiers. However, despite the fact that Darcy had never encouraged her interest and was at pains to maintain a polite distance, she persisted in trying to attract his attention.

Darcy had been glad of some time away from Netherfield yesterday and was equally glad of having an excuse to avoid the tea party until the rain had descended and his plans for the day had been changed. There was still time, he thought, if he quickly invented a reason he could slip away. There would be no need to sit through a tedious hour of Caroline and Louisa surreptitiously pumping their innocent guests for gossip or, as he now recalled, for the dark-haired Bennet sister to glare at him the way she had done on Saturday. The memory of that look, both confrontational and yet also strangely compelling, was enough to convince him it would be better to leave and he took a step in the direction of the door. However, as he glanced towards it he noticed, with disappointment, that the handle was turning and it was about to open. It was already too late; he was trapped.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Elizabeth got out of her father's car and hastily opened the umbrella to shelter herself and Jane from the torrential rain which was dousing Hertfordshire in a fair impression of a tropical monsoon. She couldn't help thinking that her mother must have planned the weather. She didn't doubt that she would be gleefully counting on Mr Bingley being gentlemanly enough to drive her daughters home later that afternoon.

Elizabeth had asked her father at lunch if he might be able to drive herself and Jane to Netherfield Park but before he could open his mouth to reply her mother answered for him: 'Your father has promised to drive me into St Albans this afternoon.'

Mr Bennet looked up in surprise. 'Have I?'

Mrs Bennet nodded with emphasis. 'Yes, my love. You're getting terribly forgetful, you know. We spoke about it last night.'

Elizabeth, knowing her father to be well organised and a meticulous diary keeper, didn't believe for one minute that he had forgotten an arrangement such as this but he was well mannered enough not to contradict his wife and simply nodded. 'Very well.'

Mrs Bennet had turned to her daughters with thinly disguised excitement.

'I'm sure we could drop you both at Netherfield Park if your father doesn't mind. It wouldn't be much out of our way.'

Elizabeth had immediately suspected that her mother's sole intention in proposing the St Albans trip was an excuse to peek at her neighbours in Netherfield Park, perhaps in the hope of seeing one or other of the occupants if she was lucky.

Five minutes after Mr Bennet had set out from Longbourn the heavens had opened and the windscreen wipers had to work overtime to clear the rivers of water cascading before Mr Bennet's eyes as he drove very slowly through the potholed country lanes now awash with puddles. By the time they had turned into the drive of Netherfield Park there were flashes of lightning to be seen on the horizon and the heavy rumble of thunder which followed caused Mrs Bennet to jump in her seat.

'Oh, goodness, girls. I do so hate thunder. It certainly isn't safe to be out walking in such weather and I really think it might continue all afternoon.'

From the tone of her voice, Elizabeth suspected that Mrs Bennet was not particularly concerned for their welfare but rather more pleased that the inclement weather could be used to their advantage. Winding the front passenger window down a fraction, Mrs Bennet called: 'Do remember your manners, Elizabeth, and don't wander on the way you sometimes do at home. I daresay that Miss Bingley and her sister are used to very superior society and we don't want them thinking we aren't capable of behaving in a genteel manner.'

Elizabeth, forced to turn her head to listen to her mother, was disconcerted, not only by her mother's lack of faith in her, in marked contrast to her sister, but also by the sight of water dripping from the brim of her hat onto her nose. She was afraid that her hair might become damp, start to escape from her hairpins and fall in curls around her face as it tended to do whenever it was given half a chance. She waved a hand at her mother to indicate she had heard and to encourage her to leave. Mrs Bennet looked as though she was about to offer more unwanted advice but it was thankfully curtailed by the sound of Mr Bennet revving the engine and pulling away, leaving his two daughters beneath the umbrella at the foot of the steps leading to the front door.

Jane and Elizabeth huddled close together and quickly ascended the steps as the rain came down in stair rods around them. Even in that short distance, Elizabeth felt her stockings grow damp from the splashes on her legs and she was glad when the bell was quickly answered and a middle-aged man of medium height, dressed in a sombre dark suit and tie, surveyed them with a questioning eye.

'Good afternoon, ladies.'

'Good afternoon. Miss Jane Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Bennet for Miss Bingley.'

The butler nodded to Jane. 'Very good, Madam, please come in.'

Jane and Elizabeth entered the large hallway of Netherfield Park, the heels of their shoes tapping noisily on the gleaming white tiles as they crossed the floor. They paused before the sweeping marble staircase and the butler turned to both ladies and asked very politely if he might take their coats and umbrella which he then removed to the cloakroom before returning and informing them that Miss Bingley was in the drawing room and inviting them to follow him.

He led them along a wide corridor into the left wing of the house, eventually stopping before a pair of tall, carved oak doors. The door swung open, the butler announced them and Jane and Elizabeth walked into the room.

The room was of large proportions and tastefully and expensively furnished. The two ladies of the house rose from sofas and crossed the room towards their guests to greet them. Caroline shook Jane's hand very warmly and greeted Elizabeth in a civil manner. It was only when she said: 'You remember my brother, Charles?' and gestured behind them that both women turned to see that Mr Bingley was coming towards them, having been seated at a table in the corner of the room. He was smiling broadly, his eyes turned towards Jane, and he greeted them in a pleasant and friendly manner.

'How delightful to see you again…both of you again.'

He turned his head in the direction of the door and, following his gaze, Elizabeth saw the reason he had looked away. Standing close to the door, so close that he must have been hidden when it had been opened to admit them, was Mr Darcy.

Mr Bingley smiled. 'May I introduce my friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy?'

Mr Darcy hesitated for a second as if undecided what to do. His expression was serious and for a moment Elizabeth fully expected him to simply nod at them without speaking but, suddenly looking as if he was aware he had forgotten himself, he strode across the room towards them and, offering his hand to each of them in turn, said very quietly, 'How do you do?'

Elizabeth took his hand most unwillingly. If she could have avoided the gesture she would have done so but she knew it would have been unforgivably rude. His hand was cool and firm and she felt the pressure of his fingers as they briefly grasped her own. She risked a glance at him but his eyes were cast down and she was sure he was finding the introduction just as unwelcome as herself which was of little surprise considering he had dismissed her charms once before. The introductions completed, he retreated to the far side of the room, the ladies were invited to take a seat on the sofa and Miss Bingley rang for tea.

'My dear Jane, were you unfortunate enough to be caught in the rain?' was Miss Bingley's opening question.

'Only a little, just as we got out of my father's car.'

'Thank goodness you didn't have to walk all the way here,' Miss Bingley exclaimed. 'I was afraid you might have arrived in a very sorry state if you had. I know how you country folk enjoy a jolly good ramble.'

Elizabeth, realising that Miss Bingley thought her slightly disparaging comment to be witty, was provoked to reply in an innocent manner: 'Yes, we often walk. It's very good exercise and the countryside is so lovely around here.'

'Hear, hear,' called Mr Bingley. 'There's nothing I like more than a nice long walk in the countryside. You should try it, Caroline.'

Miss Bingley gave her brother a thin smile. 'I'm sure you're right, Charles.' She sounded as if she thought quite the opposite but turning her attention back to Jane asked, 'Where do you like to walk?'

'We very often walk into Meryton and we visit our friends at Lucas Lodge.'

Louisa Hurst joined the conversation. 'Is there much to occupy one in Meryton?'

The tone of her voice suggested she doubted the possibility and Elizabeth, despite being well aware of the answer couldn't help responding: 'Have you never had occasion to visit the town?

'Sadly not, there's been much to occupy us here. You must both enlighten us,' Miss Bingley countered.

Jane took up the request, providing details of the various shops to be found in Meryton, the public library, the cinema, the events and meetings held at the Town Hall and the Women's Institute as well as informing them that the annual fete would be held the following Saturday.

'Goodness, we have been missing out. We must make sure to attend,' Caroline Bingley exclaimed brightly with a forced note of enthusiasm just as the drawing room door opened, signalling the arrival of afternoon tea.

For a while conversation was reduced to invitations to all to drink tea or avail themselves of a slice of cake and Elizabeth had leisure to observe the gentleman. Mr Bingley had taken the opportunity to exchange a few words directly with Jane as he stepped forward to collect a cup of tea. He asked her if the tea was to her liking and whether she preferred scones to sponge cake, informing her at the same time that there was nothing he liked better than a rich fruit cake. Jane smiled, replied very politely, laughed a little when he told of his attempt when a boy to bake a cake with disastrous results and very soon he had settled himself near her, they had begun a discourse on favourite dishes and Mr Bingley told her about some of the local delicacies he had tried on his travels. It pleased Elizabeth to see her sister and Mr Bingley chatting to so easily and to observe that he was equally as happy to listen as to talk.

In contrast, Mr Darcy, sitting some distance from the ladies near the window, had remained largely silent, occasionally offering "yes", "no" or "thank you" in response to a few general questions from Caroline Bingley. Once or twice Elizabeth had sensed him watching her but on one occasion when she had lifted her eyes out of curiosity as to why she had attracted his attention he had quickly looked away.

With Jane and Mr Bingley engaged in conversation, the tea drunk and no one inclined to eat more cake, Caroline had little choice but to turn her attention to Elizabeth and recounting the information Jane had given her about Meryton said: 'It sounds as if there's a hive of social activity in Meryton, Miss Bennet, you must be spoiled for choice.'

Elizabeth, unsure if any answer was required and doubting whether Caroline was sincere, merely smiled in response.

'Are you very busy with social engagements, Miss Bennet?' Louisa persisted.

Elizabeth had no choice but to reply this time. 'I attend the Meryton dances sometimes and I'm a member of the Women's Institute.'

'Ah, the Women's Institute,' Caroline exclaimed seizing upon this piece of information. 'Jam and Jerusalem, isn't that what they say?' She laughed a little at this and Louisa joined her.

'I don't know who "they" are,' Elizabeth replied in as light a voice as she could muster.

'Well, everyone, I suppose,' Caroline suggested vaguely, waving her hand around her as if to emphasise the point.

'It's not something I've ever heard.'

Elizabeth assumed it was a dismissive description of the Institute and its activities and although she didn't agree and thought it unfair she was unwilling to embark on a passionate defence of an organisation that even she had found too tame to capture her full interest.

'Well, I'm sure it's very worthwhile, Miss Bennet' Caroline said trying to sound sincere and keep a straight face. 'I don't know how you find the time.'

Elizabeth felt their condescension and countered: 'Have you never considered involving yourself with a charity? I'm sure there would be many who would welcome your patronage.' She sipped her tea and waited for a response.

Miss Bingley feigned weariness at the idea. 'I have so many social engagements, particularly when in London. I really think it would be doing some worthy charity a great disservice to offer time I simply don't have.'

This answer didn't surprise Elizabeth but she nodded sympathetically. 'Yes, I can see the problem. Although, I must say that, personally, I have found being in London a great advantage. There are so many organisations that would value assistance from someone such as you, Miss Bingley. There are often fundraising balls. I'm sure you could attend something like that if you wanted to help.'

Miss Bingley frowned at this idea. 'Are you in Town very often, Miss Bennet? Could we possibly have any acquaintances in common?'

Elizabeth, knowing Miss Bingley was fishing for information about her connections, shook her head. 'I'm not in London as often as I would like and I'm not usually there to attend parties.'

'You appear to have more serious pursuits, Miss Bennet.'

The sound of Mr Darcy's voice startled all of them and they turned to see he had risen from his chair and was approaching. Elizabeth felt his eyes fixed upon her and was surprised. She had almost forgotten he was in the room and had not realised he was following their conversation. She felt it incumbent upon her to say something.

'I go to visit my aunt and uncle and I'm involved with a charitable organisation there.'

Miss Bingley regarded her with curiosity. 'And may we ask who benefits from your able assistance?'

Elizabeth regarded her warily, conscious that every question seemed to have an edge to it. 'A Jewish refugee foundation.'

Miss Bingley and her sister exchanged looks. It was evident that they were exceedingly surprised but not necessarily in a good way. However, they evidently could think of nothing to say in response.

There was a pause before Mr Darcy broke the silence. 'Do you find that a good use of your time?'

To Elizabeth's ears he sounded genuinely doubtful. To a man like him, she supposed, her efforts would seem paltry and pointless and she was irritated enough to brusquely reply: 'Of course. People are arriving every day. They've escaped from a brutal regime with nothing more than a small suitcase to their names. They've lost everything and are looking to us to help. We should all be doing everything we can when the situation is so desperate.' She regarded the Bingley sisters. 'They would certainly benefit from more assistance from those who are in a position to help.'

'But it's too little too late,' Darcy said quietly.

'I beg your pardon,' Elizabeth replied indignantly. 'If you had met these people and seen how grateful they are and what a difference it makes, I daresay you wouldn't make statements like that.'

Darcy appeared startled by her words. He stared at her for a full five seconds before saying very carefully: 'Forgive me, I didn't mean to doubt your sincerity. I'm just questioning the whole approach to the problem.'

'The problem?' Elizabeth replied, her voice rising in annoyance. 'It's not a problem we're talking about. It's people.'

Darcy nodded. 'I think you misunderstand me.'

'Indeed,' Miss Bingley cut in, unhappy about the fact that Elizabeth had succeeded in capturing Darcy's full attention in a way she had not managed all afternoon. 'Darcy is quite right. There's a very big problem to be solved.'

Elizabeth was quite sure that Caroline Bingley had no idea what she was talking about and chose to ignore her remark. 'Well, one thing is certain,' she said, addressing her response to Mr Darcy and holding his gaze, 'the problem, as you put it, is unlikely to be solved by sitting around and doing nothing.'

Mr Darcy gave her a long look as if weighing up a response before deciding against it and retreating in the direction of the window again. They all lapsed into an awkward silence which only ended when Charles Bingley, clearly oblivious to what had passed, looked up from his conversation with Jane.

'Goodness how the time flies.'

'Yes, indeed,' Caroline Bingley agreed, looking at Jane and then Elizabeth. 'We have kept you both far too long and must let you go. It's been absolutely delightful.' The expression on her face suggested otherwise.

'Well, no doubt we'll all meet at the Fete on Saturday,' Bingley announced with a smile. 'After everything I've heard about the preparations I'd hate to miss it.'

From the expression on Jane's face, Elizabeth could tell that Jane was delighted that Mr Bingley was enthusiastic about attending and she had no doubt that they had been getting along very well.

Caroline Bingley rose from her seat, swiftly joined by her sister. Elizabeth and Jane, realising that they were firmly being given the signal to leave, rose also. The expression on Caroline Bingley's face suggested she would be more than happy to bid farewell to Elizabeth but she nevertheless shook hands very politely and rang the bell to summon the butler.

Bingley gazed out of the window. The dark clouds had given way to a generally overcast sky and a light drizzle was still falling.

'Could you ask Richards to bring the Bentley round please Hansen? We can't have the ladies walking home in this rain.'

'Very good, Sir.'

The butler hurried away and Elizabeth was grateful for Mr Bingley's kindness and good manners. A long walk in the rain would, she thought, have been a fitting conclusion to what had been a challenging and, at times, disagreeable afternoon in company with people who appeared to want her presence no more than she wished to be there herself.

When they parted it was with relief all sides apart from Mr Bingley and Jane, both of whom looked as if they could easily have talked for several more hours. For them, at least, the afternoon appeared to have passed in a very pleasant manner and Elizabeth was pleased that her sister seemed happy. As for herself, she was hopeful that the invitation to afternoon tea would never be extended again.

ooOoo

The Bentley taking the Bennet sisters home had barely disappeared from sight before Caroline Bingley launched forth on the events of the afternoon. 'Oh my goodness, Louisa, where do I begin?'

She sat down heavily upon the sofa in the drawing room as if she had been labouring wearily all afternoon and needed to rest.

'From the moment they arrived I knew it was going to be a very, how shall I put it… _unusual_ afternoon.'

Bingley looked a little annoyed. 'I think Miss Bennet and her sister were perfectly charming. I don't know what you're going on about, Caroline.'

Caroline tried to placate her brother. 'Jane Bennet seems a perfectly nice sort of girl, Charles, if you don't mind a certain lack of sophistication, but as for Elizabeth Bennet…' she sighed in apparent dismay, 'well, she's nothing short of a socialist. She was practically lecturing us all on our responsibilities. I'll have you know I put a shilling in the poor box at church every time I attend. And as for her rudeness to you, Darcy, it was most uncalled for.'

Darcy looked up. 'I didn't consider her to be rude. She's passionate about a cause and she spoke with feeling.'

This response didn't satisfy Caroline at all. 'That's all very well, Darcy, but she's an absolute bore in company. It's just as well she doesn't go to parties very often'

'You asked her about her interests and she answered you,' he stated.

'But tell me honestly,' Caroline persisted, 'would such a topic of conversation be likely to attract you to a woman if you were to meet her at a dance or dinner party?'

He regarded her coldly. He had heard the condescending manner in which both she and Louisa had spoken to Elizabeth Bennet but also noted the way that Elizabeth had deflected their comments and stood her ground. She had surprised him exceedingly. He hadn't expected to meet with such a woman in this country backwater and, if he was honest, he had been amused by the verbal sparring he had witnessed. Caroline Bingley had underestimated Elizabeth Bennet. She had been a match for Charles's sister and he had been entertained. He had also, most unwillingly, found himself attracted by her dark-eyed, bewitching gaze. When she had looked at him in that steadfast, earnest manner and declared that no problem could be solved by sitting around doing nothing, he had found himself silently agreeing but at the same time, being conscious of everyone's attention upon him, had been lost for a response. Now, thinking of Caroline's question to him and knowing he had been impressed by Elizabeth's confidence in the face of Caroline's dominant personality, he couldn't help replying: 'She has a good deal more about her of interest than many people I meet.'

Caroline's raised eyebrows showed her evident surprise. 'Goodness, I'm almost speechless, Darcy. I had no idea that you were such a socialist sympathiser. How long have you been harbouring these views? Are we all safe or will there be a revolution before dawn?'

Darcy made no answer and turned away. He knew very well that nothing would silence Caroline when she was in full flow. She continued to rattle on about the dire effect his views might have upon the rest of them for more than five minutes, giving free rein to her imagination and he allowed her to do so without interruption. In truth, he was relieved that he had been guarded enough not to give her more ammunition to fire at him. She could content herself with poking fun at her perceived view of his politics if she wished but this was far better than poking fun at his feelings. He was not prepared to be laughed at about something he barely understood himself. He was a man accustomed to being in control of his feelings and it was highly disquieting to realise that for the first time in his life and very much against his inclination, his reason or even his common sense, he felt inexplicably drawn to a woman who, only two days ago, he had so arrogantly dismissed as being an unsuitable dance partner.

* * *

 **If you've enjoyed the story so far and would like to know what happens next then _Summer's End_ by Tish Elham is now available as a Kindle E-book on Amazon.**


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